Lifeblood
by EndlessLabyrinth
Summary: It had started out as a simple mission, the typical new-bad-guy-of-the-week. Of course the great Kid Flash and Robin: The Boy Wonder could handle it. At least, that's what they thought. Set during season one. Warning: Robin!wumpage
1. Chapter 1

They had planned the perfect weekend.

It happened to be the first weekend of spring break, and old bats had given Dick the okay to spend a couple days in Central with Wally. They had planned to live it up. Beach parties and hot girls and late nights: everything spring break was supposed to mean for normal teenagers. But of course Kid Flash and Robin: The Boy Wonder were anything but normal teens...

"Look out!"

Robin's voice pierced through just milliseconds before the whistling bullets that nearly took Kid's head off.

The pair of young heroes currently found themselves in the transport hanger of Central City's major shipping warehouse. They were spending their beautiful afternoon avoiding bullets and bombs. Never mind the zoo that was open three blocks down; ignore the pizza parlor that gave Wally unlimited breadsticks. Forget all further plans. There's a city that needs saving. And when you're the only pair of superheroes around, (of course Uncle Barry had a league mission _this_ week. Isn't that always how these things work?) it's your job to disregard those things when some new mad man decides the east end of Central is the perfect place to test out his new atomic bomb torpedoes.

Apparently this new guy, calling himself _Nitrostorm,_ had some grand scheme planned out to hold Central City for ransom by using an arsenal of small nuclear torpedoes as his bargaining chip. If the city paid up, he wouldn't blow them all to smithereens.

It was the classic new Supervillain agenda, if Kid Flash said so himself.

"You mini supers are downright pitiful! I mean, I knew ol' Flash was outta town but I expected more fight outta my resistance." The new villain taunted.

Neither Kid Flash nor Robin replied as both dodged the latest flair of bullets coming from Nitrostorm's goons' semi-automatics, using super speed and a triple summersault respectively.

The goons relentlessly pounded away at the building's exterior with their bullets. The harsh, rich echoing reverberated in Wally's ears like a sick warning chant. Robin was forced into another summersault in attempt to avoid Nitrostorm's seemingly endless supply of grenades. Wally was no better off; the goons seemed to find him particularly interesting and were contently unloading their semi-automatics on his blur of a body. Dodging the fray was not nearly as easy as The Flash always made it out to be, and Wally couldn't suppress the wince that escaped his mouth at the sudden pain of a skidding billet against his thigh. The pair was sitting ducks in this confined, unstable place. _In the middle of freaking nowhere, too_, Wally cursed to himself.

The two friends made their way to a corner of the warehouse and took cover underneath a wall of shipping boxes, a rainfall of bullets immediately hitting the other side.

"KF, we need to bail!" Robin called over the roar. His eyes were hidden under his domino mask, but Kid Flash could still see the twitch in them.

"No shit!" He resisted the implied 'Sherlock' at the end. No need to get angry. Barry had been trying to tell him that lately. Missions were not the times to let your heart do the ruling. Kid Flash had a job to do, and mouthing off at his one ally wouldn't do him any good.

Too suddenly for Kid's liking, the bullets stopped. Robin sent a wary glance his way before looking over the top of the crates cautiously. Wally followed suit to see Nitrostorm shooing his men down, his mini-nuke-torpedo-thing strung across his back. "Come on out, kids. Ya must know by now there's nowhere for ya to run."

He spoke with a calm, confident demeanor that sent Wally's blood boiling at the same time that chills ran down his spine. The speedster looked to Robin to see the hacker typing furiously at his wrist computer. Wally hoped to God the Boy Wonder had some crazy trick up his sleeve because both heroes knew this guy was just taunting them. Nitrostorm could toast them whenever he wanted.

Wally tended to talk when he got nervous. "I don't know, looks to me you're the one hiding behind your little posse of guns over there, cowards!" He called, glad his voice shook less than his hands.

Barking laughter echoed around the warehouse. "'Cowards'? Big talk for the one _without_ the guns, little man. Come on around now. I don't wanna have to pull this out if I don't need to." He gestured threateningly to his attached, make-shift torpedo.

Wally swallowed. Would this psycho really try to launch that thing with them all inside? The only way he could see this working out for Nitrostorm was if he let his goons shoot and keep the two of them there while he shot the entire building from afar. Somehow Wally doubted his goons would like playing babysitter shark bait very much.

Still, the speedster trembled. "Hey Rob, got any ideas-?"

He turned, expecting to find his friend right behind him, only to be met with empty air. The boy wonder's signature cackle echoed through the walls as Nitrostorm's goons whipped their heads around trying to find the source. Wally too searched the room's ceilings and hidden cubbies in a knowingly fruitless attempt to locate the bird. He unconsciously let out a sigh of relief. Wally never really liked it when Robin disappeared like that—irritating little show-off—but usually when he did, things turned out alright. What could he say, bat training was good.

Robin's snicker rang out once more, but this time distinctly to the left. The five goons' heads, plus Wally and Nitrostorm's, whipped over to see the Boy Wonder standing over the loading crates filled with Nitrostorm's atomic weapons prepared for fire. The condescending smirk evident on his features, he cockily pressed a button on his wrist computer. One by one, the blinking lights on the activated weapons started going out, and, one by one, the structural component started to disintegrate, rendering the bombs useless.

"No…!"

Wally looked over to Nitrostorm to see the horror comically plastered on his face. The speedster almost felt pity for the villain as he anxiously gripped fistfuls of his hair in his hands and screamed "_No!_" even louder.

"Sorry," Robin mocked, "I guess your ammo had some wiring problems. You might wanna look into that next time."

God, Wally loved that kid.

Nitrostorm's face was livid. The man looked deranged as the gravity of what Robin had done started to fully sink in. He pressed a foot forward and jabbed his pointed finger towards the Boy Wonder. "Finish them!"

As the coward turned to retreat, his goons started firing their semi-autos once more.

_'Well, not really one for the villain monologuing then, are we?_' Wally thought as he ducked once more behind the crates. Wally thought he saw one of the goons place a hand over his ear, as if listening to a radio call, but really, at the moment he was more concerned about not having his face blown off, and hoping that his protective boxes were filled with steel blocks.

The sudden, faint cry of a little bird alerted Wally's attention. He whipped his head around, suddenly not particularly caring if he got hit, to see his friend clutching his side while crouching behind another set of crates.

"Robin!"

At a speed that would have put The Flash to shame, Wally zipped forward to his friend, ignoring the flurry of bullets still coming. The speedster's hands immediately went to Robin's shoulders. The poor kid' face was scrunched in pain while his gloved hands pressed hard against his side. Red liquid seeped through his fingers. Oh god... That was blood. That was Robin's blood. That was a lot of Robin's blood. Shit.

"Rob! Dude_, what happened?"_

"Got scraped," He grunted, lifting his wet hand up to look at it. "Stupid bullets..."

"Can you walk?" _Of course he couldn't walk, Kid Idiot. His freaking blood is decorating the floor!_

Robin just shook his head, getting right back to business. "The primary settings on the bombs have been deactivated, but the league's still gonna want to see the hardware of the mechanisms. As well as find out how someone like this guy could get his hands on so many of 'em. I need you to speed over and gather as many as you can and run 'em back to base for analysis. Then you gotta—ack!"

Robin doubled over, grabbing his pained side. _Yeah, no_. Kid Flash would do no 'speeding away' unless it involved carrying a certain partner out of the firing zone.

"Aaand that's my queue to get you out of here." Wally made to scoop him up, earning a shove of protest and a tiny whimper. "_Sorry_! Sorry, sorry." He mumbled. "You'll thank me for this later when we're back at the Hall and Bats asks you what exactly happened and you'll gesture gratefully to your loving savior and-"

"KF, shh!" Robin gestured with his free hand. Immediately Wally knew what was wrong. The bullets had stopped firing. Wally lifted his head up over the crates to see an empty floor. The goons were gone. Why were the goons gone?

Kid Flash and Robin exchanged a look of dreadful realization. Neither of them were idiots. They both knew exactly where the men went. They both knew why their leader had left earlier. The more distance he got from his firing target, the less risk he put on himself, after all. And you didn't stay in business by blowing up your partners. No. You gave them enough time to get out of the building, too.

Even as he scooped up Robin, (he would never get over how _light_ the boy was) Wally knew they would never make it. It was almost as though the hairs on the back of his neck had some sixth sense that told him the torpedo had already been launched.

The world around the heroes exploded in a flash of bright, clichéd white light. The boom which reverberated the once standing walls was ten times more than Wally's Meta-human ears could handle. He tried to super-speed the two of them out, but sudden debris from the explosion slammed hard into his back and threw him off balance. With a cry of surprise and pain, Wally tripped on his feet, and Robin was flung out of his arms. Too much was happening at once. He was pushed to the ground, skidding on his stomach. Pieces of crumbling concrete and metal fell all over the place. He thought he saw Robin shouting something to him. Wally lifted his head to see the screaming face of his best friend. Wally tried to lift his hand, to show Robin that he saw him, but something hit him hard in his back. His world turned black.

~.~.~.~.~.

Wally came to an immeasurable time later. He was first aware of a hard pressure on his back: the board that struck him, he assumed. '_Oww… that didn't feel like a back massage_.' He tried wiggling his fingers first, then his toes—_'Still twitching._ Good sign, at least.

He let out a long, pained groan and slowly lifted his body up. He thanked the karma god that had only piled that single metal sheet on top of him. That could have been a lot worse... Wally flung the board off and stood slowly, cracking his back. He was going to be sore tomorrow.

Wally looked around at the mess. The warehouse had been completely obliterated. Nothing was left in-tack from Nitrostorm's explosion, and, from the looks of the small fires still burning here and there, Wally hadn't been out for too long. All too harshly, memories from just before the explosion came back.

Wally's heart dropped, "Rob!"

Faster than the blink of an eye, Kid Flash sped around the debris. He flung up pieces at random, anything that looked like it could hold a small, thirteen year-old boy. He searched, all the while his heart rate increasing with his anxiety.

"Damnit... Damnit... Damnit" He muttered under his breath.

Far too long of a time later, he flung up a discarded piece of what looked like scorched metal to find an unconscious face underneath.

"Rob!"

His best friend looked terrible. Robin's masked face was the only thing uncovered, and streaks of blood seeped slowly from an open wound in his head. That wasn't even the worst part. Not only was the rest of his face peppered with multiple nicks and dirt stains, Wally was unable to uncover the rest of him. Rob's torso was held by a large pipe that pinned his small form to the ground.

Wally zipped to the pipe and lifted ...tried to lift. The pipe must have weighed nearly a freaking ton because Kid Flash could hardly budge the damned thing.

_Freaking Damnit_!

Wally went back to Robin's face and lightly smacked his cheek, "Robin! Dude, wake up! Come on, man, ya gotta give me a little something here. Robin! Wake up! Please!" Wally didn't even mind how desperate he sounded. He needed Robin to open his eyes.

Slowly, too slowly, Robin's eyes fluttered up as the white holes in his domino mask expanded. His head turned and he let out a slow moan in pain.

"Rob!" Wally couldn't hold back his smile.

"KF..." Robin's voice was so quiet. "Wha... What hap'ned"

He didn't remember... Why didn't he remember? "There... there was an explosion, man. Remember? That jackass with that mini nuke decided to launch his thing at the warehouse. Guess he decided to play karma. Don't think he's entirely qualified, if you ask me."

That earned a small chuckle from the Boy Wonder, but it quickly turned into a fit of tiny, wet coughs that started attacking Robin's body. Little splashes of blood came out of his mouth, landing on his cheek. Wally's stomach dropped and his body started to vibrate with worry.

"Okay, okay no more talking." He fumbled, "Time to get you out of here."

Wally tried the pipe again, to no avail. His muscles screamed in protest under the load. Come on, come on, _come on_! Why wouldn't this damn thing budge! Robin's little cry of pain reached Wally's ears as the pipes pressure slip deeper into his stomach and the speedster let go immediately.

"Sorry! Sorry. Sorry. Sorry." He repeated. His breathing started to hitch.

"Ow..." Robin breathed.

"What's wrong?" _Besides the obvious._

"L-leg... Hurts."

Wally's brow furrowed as his eyes went to where the Boy Wonder's legs should be buried. A large steel box covered most of the area, but, with the extra adrenaline that was surely running through his system, Wally went over to it, pushed on its side, and managed to roll the box out of the way.

That didn't make him feel any better, though.

That box had been right on top of Robin's left leg. What remained was a bloody, broken _mess_ that used to be bone. Robin's leg was completely shattered...

"KF... What is it?" His voice was surprisingly steady... albeit quiet.

Wally's, not so much. "N-nothing, dude... You, uh... just got a little… banged up."

"That bad?"

Wally frowned. He forgot that he was talking to a bat. He didn't reply, however, as he returned to Robin's line of sight.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, alright." He promised. Damned if he couldn't lift the freaking pole, he was going to find a way.

"Okay..." Robin muttered. His eyes under his mask fluttered dangerously.

"No, nononono, don't you go to sleep. You gotta stay awake, man."

"Kay."

Wally cursed (more than Robin's thirteen year-old, sensitive ears have ever heard, he was sure) when the eyeholes in Robin's mask became slits. No! This wasn't right. Wasn't batman supposed to have trained this kid to handle anything? Surely gaping head wounds would have been covered in one of his simulation things! Right? Why didn't Robin know what to do? Why did Wally have to handle this...? How was he supposed to know...?

Wally tried slapping his friends face again. Harder. Nothing.

Wally stood and took several, super-speed laps around the ruins, running exasperated hands through his sweaty, dirty hair. Too close. Everything was too close and confining. He wanted to run. He wanted to feel the wind whipping through his hair as he left this whole mess behind him at the speed of sound. But no, he needed to help Robin. He tried to lift the pole one more time. Running at the thing from every angle possible, using other, smaller poles to try and pry it up. Yet nothing he did budged the thing even a bit.

This wasn't working. He needed to get help. But to do that would mean leaving Robin. The Boy Wonder was already far more bloodless then he thought any normal human could live through. Then to add a severe concussion on top of that? Still, Wally was doing no good here. There was no way he was going to lift that pole off Robin by himself. Wally steeled himself for his friend's sake and zipped back to his side.

He tried shaking him again, "Rob? Wake up." The guy could hope.

By some miracle, Robin let out a small groan. "Mmm."

"Rob! Dude, you with me?"

"Kinda..." He paused. He was breathing really hard for some reason, "Not really feeling the aster currently."

Wally let out a gasp of wild laughter, more out of relief than anything. "I don't really blame ya, man. I'm gonna go get us some help, alright? Find someone to get this pole off you."

"Kay." He still sounded exhausted. Wally wondered if he could find a way for him to stay awake. "Maybe... Maybe get Supey. He can… lift… heavy things."

Wally managed a nervous smile. Robin was starting to get delirious. Whether it was from the blood loss or the head trauma, Wally couldn't afford to speculate. He swallowed hard, "Yeah. Yeah I'll see if I can find him. I gotta leave you here for a bit though. I'll see if the zeta tubes are workings so hopefully I won't be too long. But you gonna be alright for a bit?"

Robin started to nod before whimpering and scrunching his eyes in pain. Wally stifled his own sob with a wince. Why did his best friend always get the worst luck? "I'll be alright, KF. You get out of here."

Wally nodded, "I'll be right back. You stay awake you hear me?"

"Aye aye captain."

Wally hitched another sob. Why did seeing his friend's small, reassuring smirk make his heart sink? Why did he get this horrible feeling that this was going to be the last time he would see Dick alive? Wally's breathing quickened and his body started to shake. No. He wasn't going to let that happen.

"I'll see you soon alright? If you're lucky, M'gann will come too, and you can pretend to be unconscious so she'll have to resuscitate you. But only if you promise to fake it. None of this actual unconsciousness, you hear?"

The Boy Wonder chuckled, "You sure... that's not... you... getting lucky, Wally?"

At the use of his real name, a ball of cotton lodged itself in Kid Flash's throat, "I'll be right back, Dick. Just hold on, alright."

Dick blinked furiously under his mask, nodding weakly a couple of times. Wally saw him swallow several times and watched his mouth pinch together tightly. Damnit. Wally wasn't crying either. No. They were going to see each other again. There was no need to cry. Wally put a hand on his best friend's head and closed his eyes for a moment, urging, praying that everything was going to be alright.

"I'll be right back." And with that, the speedster took off as fast as his Meta-legs would take him.

* * *

_Thoughts?_

_I'll hopefully be posting the next part soon. Reviews are more then appreciated! I've browsed through the YJ stories before but I've never come across a Robin!wumpage where it's just him and Kid and there's nothing Kid can do about it. I wanna see where this goes (that and I'm a horrible person)_

_Special thanks to my wonderful friend _Sweetened Spoilers_ for taking and cleaning up the mess I sent her. You're amazing, hon!_

_Thank you so much for clicking and reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hi all!_

_Just a fair warning for this chapter... it's sad. Sorry! Enjoy! _

* * *

Usually when Wally ran, nearly at the speed of sound, he could still make out the general shapes of whatever he was running by. He could tell a street sign from that girl walking her dog and he could see the differences between that really good-smelling pizza joint and the local theatre house.

He couldn't right now.

Whether it was because of his deep-rooted terror for his whole-heartedly crappy situation or the fact that he had never run as fast for anything in his entire life, Wally couldn't tell. The world around him became a mesh of colored streaks and whiplash. In hindsight, he probably should have at least checked to make sure he was still heading in the right direction, but most of his rational thought was still back at that warehouse, begging Robin to hold on just a little bit longer.

Wally had tried to radio the team when he first took off. But he had cursed under his breath when he saw a damaged, quietly sparking communicator attached to his wrist instead of the shiny, brand new one that was there before the explosion. This really was not his day. He had at least wanted the team prepared. At least then they could have gotten ready faster. Wally tried to think of what he had done to piss the karma gods off so damn badly. 'Disastrous' didn't even begin to cover it. Throw in a heaping, 'distraught' mess and you might be getting close...

Wally kept running.

Eventually, some subconscious part of his brain sensed that he could slow down. Wally decelerated, rather unfashionably, and brought the world back to order for himself.

He let out his first real sigh of relief since the start of this mess, "Thank God."

Central City's Justice Center was staring right at the junior speedster. Wally zipped inside and went straight for the building's zeta tube beam, stepping inside and activating the desired coordinates in one solid motion. The familiar tingling sensation that went along with molecular body shifting took hold of Wally's form. He closed his eyes and let the machine transport him three states over in a matter of seconds.

"Recognize... Kid flash. B03"

The robotic, female's voice droned out through the empty hanger of Mount Justice. Wally wasted no time and sped out of the entrance through the mountain and started searching for his team.

They had to be here, right? Artemis at least had mentioned earlier that she was spending the weekend at the cave so as to escape the dread that was the city of Gotham. M'gann was always here as long as it wasn't school hours. And if Kaldur wasn't taking a daytrip trip to Atlantis, he was surely around, too. If they weren't around, Wally reminded himself, that wasn't the absolute end of the world. What he really needed at the moment was strength…

"Conner!"

Wally had zipped around to the mountain's living room to see the Kryptonain clone's head turn from where he was sitting on the sofa.

"KF? …What are you doing here?" His voice sounded moderately surprised, if not slightly annoyed, as if he was peeved that the noisy kid was interrupting his television screen's static.

"Robin's in trouble." Wally desperately tried to calm his shaking voice.

Conner's eyebrows crinkled and he turned slowly, "What?"

Wally's voice started trembling even more. He could hardly think straight, "We… we ran into trouble. We- I don't know! Everything was happening really fast and there was this guy with this huge freaking gun and he blew us up and the building came down and I was alright, I mean, there was only, like, one board that fell b-but I still got hit and… and Robin's _so_ much worse off and I didn't know what to do because I couldn't lift that damn pipe because I'm not strong enough and I'm a horrible friend and, _shit_! Conner, I really need help! I-"

Wally had trouble breathing. He hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast that morning and his head was starting to get fuzzy from blood loss coupled with an empty stomach. Mid-way through his outburst his body had subconsciously started vibrating and his arms shook violently as they nervously ran fingers through his hair, or as he hugged himself out of needed comfort.

By now Connor had gotten off the couch completely. The change in the clone surprised Wally more than anything. In the course of a couple seconds he went from sitting absently to clenched fists and attentive ears. Never underestimate the effect their little bird could have on his family… Conner gripped Wally's shoulders tightly, forcing the speedster to look directly at him, "_Wally_! What. Happened?"

"I-I. R-robin. He's stuck."

"Where?"

"East side of Central."

"Does anyone else know?"

"N-no. I couldn't get hold of the League."

Conner thought for a minute before letting go of Wally's shoulders and making his way towards the zeta tubes, "Let's go."

Wally cleared his throat and blinked away sudden, surprising wetness before stumbling after him, "Don't you think we should get the rest of the team?"

"Do we have time?"

Wally didn't like that question… He didn't like that question at all, "No."

"Then let's get going." Conner said unsympathetically, stepping into the zeta tube and punching in the coordinates.

Damn. Usually Superboy had two switches: bored and enraged. Right now the boy seemed... actually anxious. He wasn't just being unsympathetic to be unsympathetic; there was a tremble behind his voice that only had ever come out a few times before. _Dammit,_ why was Wally still shaking so much? He was a freaking superhero for God's sake! He should have been able to shake off the anxiety of a tight schedule. Why was this so much harder than anything he'd ever done before...?

_Because this is about Dick_.

Wally shuttered and sped off to meet the disintegrating Superboy as he disappeared in the zeta tube. As he quickly followed, letting himself be carried away, he left Wally West behind. Kid Flash did not need that whimpering child standing in the way of a rescue mission...

Kid Flash emerged out of the zeta tube. Superboy was already waiting for him with anxious eyes and a battle stance. "Where is he?" He asked.

Kid Flash responded, "The far east side. Can you keep up?"

"I'll manage." He said, "Just _go_."

With that, Kid Flash took off only a fraction slower than when he had been coming. Superboy fell in step right behind him, doing a mixture of enhanced speed and high-level jumps that surprisingly kept decent pace with the speedster. The pair tore through the city with an almost complete disregard for public property -more an issue with Superboy then Kid Flash- and general awareness of surroundings. Kid Flash zipped through the downtown skyscrapers and leaped over busy intersections. Even with his super-speed, his pace was dreadfully slow in comparison to his racing mind.

Finally, after too long, Kid Flash skidded to a stop at the rubbles of the warehouse. He didn't even fully register Superboy slamming in a few seconds later. Kid Flash's attention immediately went to the small lump trapped underneath a pipe.

"Robin...!"

Kid Flash could not stop the horrible plummeting of his stomach as the mangled form of his best friend came into view. Robin was, as he expected, still trapped under that god-forsaken pipe. What the speedster hadn't expected was for the little pool of blood that had surrounded itself around the boy wonder to have grown in the time he had been away. _What the hell_? He couldn't have been gone for more than fifteen minutes! Twenty if he was being generous! How the hell did humans have so much blood in the first place? What gave them fucking the right?

Kid Flash knelt down to Robin's side again. His hands shook something awful as he placed his palm on the boy's forehead.

"Rob..." He whispered.

The small boy let out a blessed cough. It was a horrible, wet dough that tore through his lungs and throat; it was quiet and weak, but it was still a cough. Still a sign of life.

Kid Flash laughed out loud dispute himself, "H-he's alive. Supey, he's still alive!"

Superboy came to his side with a horrified expression. His muscular arms hung uselessly at his sides and his mouth gaped at the sight of the broken bird, "You didn't tell me he looked like this..."

Well that killed all of Wally's joy. "Well you get why I'm happy he's still kickin'." That came out harsher than he was expecting. "Do you think you could get the pole off him?"

Superboy's fists balled at his sides. His angry expression said more than words ever would as he crouched down near Robin's torso and, gently as he could, lifted the pipe. Conner may as well have been lifting a cardboard box for all he effort that showed on his face, but to Kid Flash it was the entire world. The pressure was finally lifted from his best friend, and Robin's chest could take its first deep breath in hours.

Kid Flash smiled, thanked the clone profusely and turned back to his friend. The speedster gathered Robin's head in his lap as he crouched down beside him. He started tapping him on the cheek gently, "Rob? Hey man, wake up. Come on. Sorry, M'gann's not here, dude. You can stop your pretending."

The only real response he got was the sounds of struggled wheezing. The hell...?

"Rob? Dude we're here! I'm serious wake up." Nothing. "I told you not to do it for real! Dick! Come on! I hear you breathing! I know you're still there!"

This wasn't Kid Flash talking anymore. Wally West had somehow snuck his sorry ass back and was taking control over the situation. In some back corner of his mind he hoped Conner didn't catch the little name slip, but Wally really had more pressing things to worry about at the moment.

Wally felt a pair of hands on his shoulders and realized that he'd been shaking poor Robin in feeble attempts to get him to wake. Shit. Immediately Wally let go of the Boy Wonder like a hot spark. This wasn't right. What else was he supposed to do? They had gotten the pole off him, hadn't they? He should be fine now. Okay, maybe a couple bruises... Perhaps a few days in recovery but he should at least be awake by now. Why wasn't he opening his eyes? No, no, _no_!

Wally just stared at his friend's face while making his internal prayers and monologues. Superboy did much the same until both boys jumped fiercely at the sound of another tiny cough from their little bird.

"Rob?"

The slits of Robin's domino mask expanded and fluttered a couple of times before opening a fair amount to be considered awake. He let out the smallest of groans before falling into a fierce coughing fit.

Shit! Wally's eyes bugged as he hurriedly tried to get Dick into a sitting position so he could breathe better. It had been out of the best intentions but as soon as pressure was put on the boys ribs, he let out a cry of pain that scared the sensible wits out of the pair of rescuers.

"Hey! Hey, hey Rob, easy... Easy that's it. Sorry! Sorry... Sorry." Wally, as gently as he could manage, laid Dick's head into his lap, "Jesus man, what did you get yourself into?"

Wally didn't get much response. For some God-only-known reason, he really needed to see Dick's eyes. Not really bothering to ask permission, he gently gripped off the domino mask. Unfocused, light blue eyes blinked back at the pair of superheroes. If Dick was bothered by his apparent exposed identity now, he didn't say. If anything, clarity seemed to seep back into his vision, as if he was just now recognizing who his rescuers were. "Hey, yeah that's right we're here. Me and Supey. Y-You gonna keep your eyes open?"

Wally rambled the entire time Connor just sat beside with a useless, scared look on his face. Robin blinked around furiously, gulping in painful, shaky breaths as he put together the pieces of what had happened.

He coughed again, "You... y-you... came... back."

Wally's throat hitched, "Course we did, you idiot. You're too much fun to leave behind."

He laughed once, tiny droplets of blood erupted on his cheeks again. Stop bleeding...

He turned his head to Superboy, "Connor..."

For the first time in his life, the clone looked utterly, hopelessly scared. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, trying to calm his racing heartbeat, "Hey Rob."

Robin smiled slightly at his apparent worry, "Thanks..." Cough, "thanks for getting" cough, "that... pole offa me..." cough.

Connor swallowed. _He swallowed_! "No problem."

Wally cut in, rubbing Robin's shoulders reassuringly, "How ya feeling, dude?"

"N-not… so… whelmed."

Why was he still trying to make jokes? Did he not realize how bad his situation was? "We gotta get you to a hospital, man. You think we can move ya?"

Conner narrowed his eyes quizzically, "'Think we can'? Why couldn't we?"

"Y-you can't just pick up an injured person like this... You could end up doing more harm than good." Sometimes Wally forgot that Connor was only a little more than a year old.

Conner just got angry at Wally's comment, "What do you mean we can't move him? Look at him! He needs help! He's broken!"

"I know that!" Superboy was really good at elevating Wally's heart rate, "Don't you think I know that! I just don't think we can take that risk... Supey, I need you to get back into town and get an ambulance over here, alright? Tell them there's an emergency at the east end shipping warehouse and we need immediate medical attention."

Conner looked like he wanted to put up more of a fight. But Robin coughed again, and Superboy sobered up. He grumbled something about not having done that sooner and super-jumped away, leaving small craters in his path.

Wally did admit that was an excellent question. He guessed that why he didn't go straight to the paramedics was a bit of a combination between blind worry and full, instinctual faith in his team's performance. His first instinct was to get them as first responders, that plus the knowledge that Superboy was the easiest accessible person who could lift the pipe. Either way, what happened, happened. Right now they just had to put all their effort in keeping Robin alive.

Shit. Robin.

Dick had gone silent again. His head had gone slack in Wally's lap and his eyes had drifted close.

"Shit, shit, _shit_! No! Robin, you wake up, alright! It's almost over. Come on. You're gonna be fine. Wake up, you loser!"

Dick groaned and blinked wearily, "Hurts..."

_Shitfuckingdamnit_. Wally's heart dropped in his chest. "I know, Dick." Why was his voice shaking so much? Why was Robin's voice so much weaker than it had been just two minutes ago? Why was that stupid puddle of blood _still_ getting bigger? "I know. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. But please, you gotta keep your eyes open. Just a little bit longer. Just a little bit. Conner will be right back."

"I-I" cough "I... didn't fall…" cough.

_What_? "W-what are you talkin' about, Dick?" Dammed be the superhero identity shit. Wally was talking to Dick Grayson right now.

"I didn't fall... Not l-like them. I didn't fall."

Wally's breath left him. Dick was talking about his parents.

Dick gave an awful, wet chuckle, "That... that was always my… biggest fear. Falling. Longest time. Not anymore... Not anymore."

_No nononono_. Wally wasn't ready to accept this yet. He would never be ready, "You're talking crazy, Dick."

Dick wasn't fazed, "It's not so bad. Remember that, Wally. It's not so bad."

"Dick, no!"

The Boy Wonders eyes blinked something awful, and Wally noticed small, wet lines trailing down his face. Almost instantaneously, the speedster felt tears riding down his own cheeks, too. He didn't care. What was a little water amidst all this?

"N-not being corny... B-but, thanks Wall-man-"

"Damnit, Dick! Don't do this!"

"Thanks f-for being there. You're" cough "best friend" cough "a-anyone could have" He could hardly take in a full breath, but he still managed to end with a little half-smile.

Wally couldn't manage words; he was having too much trouble keeping his wracking sobs in check, while blinking enough so he could still make out Dick behind his blurry vision. His breath came out in broken hitches as his arms tried to gather Dick into an awkward embrace, as if simply holding onto the boy would keep him here.

The small boys breathing became increasingly irregular. His eyes swam in and out of focus, sometimes looking at Wally with frightening clarity, and sometimes staring blindly at something in the distance only he could see. Wally never once regretted exposing Dick's eyes. For some reason, he really didn't want the former acrobat, the adopted son of Bruce Wayne, the best friend of the junior speedster to be with his Robin mask on right now. Right now, the boy wasn't Robin. He was Richard Grayson. He would forever be Richard John Grayson to Wally.

Dick small gasp resurfaced Wally's attention; he stared into the small boy's eyes and held him tight, supporting his slack head in the crook of his armpit and hugging his shoulders with his arms.

Wally was no doctor, and from all he's seen he never ever wants to become one, but he knew when a heartbeat was off. Dick's chest was trying to beat itself out of his rib cage with the force of an angry Superboy.

Stage one.

Dicks breathing switched from anxious panting to slow, lethargic intakes that were way too far apart from each other. The oxygen level to his brain was decreasing.

Stage two.

Dick's eyes couldn't find a focus point. He blinked madly all around as if having an episode, or as if reliving memories far, far away from Wally. Wally tried to shake the boy gently, trying to regain his focus, and finally he did.

Stage three.

Dick's blue eyes stared right through Wally. The junior speedster couldn't think, "Just a bit longer. He's coming right back. Just hold on a little longer." He begged.

Yet, Wally's words were meaningless.

Heard by no one.

Richard hadn't blinked for 180 seconds, 180 long seconds, before Wally felt the low rumble of Conner jumping his way back. The clone ran up to the pair, as breathless as a kryptonian could ever be. He didn't see what Wally saw at first. He didn't connect the dots between Dick's exposed, sightless eyes and Wally's barley controlled sobs. He couldn't see and understand the speedster's crouched, hung head that was giving off warning singles to stay away. But, he was still getting used to the whole 'feelings' thing that humans were so big about.

Too late he realized. It was only after he tried to walk up behind the speedster and place a hopefully alerting hand on his shoulder that he realized his mistake. Wally West's fist connected violently with the kryptonian's jaw. The action earned no pain from Conner's point, but the quick snap in Wally's fingers signaled the breaking of bones.

Conner stumbled backwards, more in surprise than anything else. His hand went to his perfectly intact jaw and he stared at the speedster with a shocked expression. "KF!"

The speedster either didn't hear him or didn't want to because Wally didn't step down. Instead, he used his super speed to deliver a series of rapid-fire punches right to Conner's chest. His expression looked rabid. Conner tried to catch his hands mid punch, but he was moving too fast and too often for the kryptonian to get a good grip. Eventually, he did catch a wrist and squeezed it still.

"KF! Stop! It's me!"

Wally refused to look him in the eyes, his head was bowed and his entire body shook. Quite suddenly, the boy let out a scream. It wasn't any normal scream that Conner could remember from villains when they had their plans foiled, or any scream that came out of a scared child. This was a deep howl of agony. Wally wasn't angry. He wasn't scared. He was truly devastated.

Wally's legs buckled and Conner scrambled to support him. The boy suddenly went completely limp in Conner's arms. His body shook violently as sobs wracked through his breaths. "He's gone... He's gone. He's gone."

Conner looked, really looked at the little lump still lying a few feet over. He realized that Wally was right. God forbid, Wally was right.

"I-I don't understand…" Really, he didn't. The paramedics were coming. "I can't hear his heartbeat." He didn't even realize he'd said it out loud. Wally, if anything, only gripped Superboy tighter and didn't respond.

Superboy wasn't stupid. He knew things that went on in this world, despite only being a year old. He had had many first experiences, new happenings that taught him things about his character and his ability to handle certain situations. But never before had he experienced the death of a team mate. He didn't know what to do. He knew that previous experience called him to get angry... But for some reason he couldn't. Not right now. His body was frozen in his half-squat, half-sitting position that still gripped the sobbing Wally.

But for some reason he couldn't. Not right now. His body was frozen in his half-squat, half-sitting position that still gripped the sobbing Wally.

For how long the pair sat like that, Wally couldn't tell. He couldn't say when exactly the paramedics finally showed up, with their helicopters, ambulances, police, firefighters, the whole shebang. He couldn't recreate their horrified faces as they took in the scene around them and they realized they were too late. All Wally could remember was them trying to take him away, and how he resisted. He couldn't explain why he struggled so hard. Maybe because they took him away he same time they laid out he body bag. Wally hadn't meant to knock the EMT out. Really. But, honestly, what gave that fucking bastard the right to try and stuff his best friend in some musty black bag?

It wasn't until his raging blood stream had a sedative in it that the other paramedics got him to stop punching the poor guy. _Well, damn_. If only he'd learned to vibrate his molecules sooner. He could have gotten away from these people. He could have taken Dick with him, too. The two of them could have gotten out of there. But no. Dick was dead, and Wally was sedated. Some things just didn't always go as planned.

* * *

_Thoughts?_

_fun fact: when the body is dying, the heart actually does start to beat rapidly. Funny too because that really doesn't help a dying person. It's the body's attempt to get blood/adrenaline/oxygen everywhere but if you're already bleeding then it just kills you faster. Silly body._

_Also, I love Robin. I really do. He's my favorite and Nightwing is my favorite hero in the DC universe. I dont know why I feel the need to bring him pain. Just know that I do it out of love. _

_Thank you so much to everyone who commented/favorited/followed me! hopefully I didnt loose anyone with this chapt. But be sure to tell me what you think! _


	3. Chapter 3

_Ahh! Sorry! This is freakishly late... Hopefully this next chapter makes up for that... a little? _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Wally hated hospitals.

Never before had anything good happened to him or anyone he knew in a hospital. People were always either cranky or sleeping, the halls were never quiet, and the whole place smelled weird... not like the clean scent of a lab, where the sterility meant healing or promising research, but the sterility that meant sickness, death...

Wally blinked a couple times and let the soft light of his single room come into focus. He tried to lift his arm to rub he sleep out of his eyes but stopped when a sharp tug pulled him back. He turned his gaze to see his arm attached to an IV drip. The small, rubber tube held a little slack, but still left very little movement for the speedster. Wally, still groggy from the pain meds the docs were surely pumping in him, stared numbly at the bag filling him with necessary fluids.

_Drip… drip… drip_…

Wally slowly assessed the rest of his body. Other than the fluid drip attached to his arm, his right hand was heavily bound and casted, he felt bandages wrapped around his torso, saw a second drip attached to his side that led to an artificial feeding bag pumping fluid nutrients into him, and had the absolute worst headache he'd ever experienced in his life.

He felt like shit...

How long had he been here? How long has that IV tube been dripping? When was the last meal he'd had? Wally suddenly realized just how hungry he was. His stomach felt painfully tight and growled like it was trying to eat itself. Wally's gave a small groan. Some help that feeding tube was being…

"Wally?"

If he hadn't been so dosed up on relaxants, Wally surely would have jumped out of his skin. He hadn't heard the man come in, but a concerned, yet relieved face swam into Wally's vision.

"Uncle Barry...?"

The elder speedster cracked a smile and let out a breathless, relieved laugh while gathering Wally into one of those awkward, hospital-bed hugs. "Oh, Wally. It's good to see you awake."

Wally slowly accepted the embrace, taking comfort in his uncle's sturdy, warm arms; but he knew, in the back of his foggy mind, that there was a reason he felt a sudden crushing sadness pressing on his chest. Part of him didn't really want to remember, but against his will the memories started flying back. The explosion. The pipe. Robin. Superboy. Blood. Dick. Body bags. Screaming. Blood. Pain. Everything that had happened flashed back with startling clarity, in broken images that left too much color for his liking. Wally suddenly felt sick.

Even in his fluid-starved state, Wally gripped his uncle tighter and stifled sobs. Dick was gone. He was dead. This wasn't right.

"I'm sorry," Barry said comfortingly, rubbing his hand through the back of Wally's hair. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Barry at least didn't try and baby him with false diversions.

Wally didn't respond. He didn't want to. What did he have to say to his uncle? They had both suffered loss in the field, and of course some losses were harder than others. But Barry had never lost a brother before. He didn't know what that felt like. The elder speedster must have realized that and thankfully didn't press.

After some time, Wally took a deep breath. "What happen'd?" He hoped his uncle knew what he was talking about.

He did. "You got pretty scraped up, bud. After the paramedics sedated you, they took you here. You've been here since Saturday. It's Monday now. You lost about a quart of blood, were severely malnourished from all the running-on-empty you did. You've got a minor concussion, one cracked vertebrae from the explosion, and a broken hand. But I think that last one was rather intentional, if I can guess."

Wally didn't return Barry's rueful smile. He just sat there numbly, holding his bandaged hand in his lap, letting the information sink in. Two days. He'd been out for two days. Dick has been dead for two days.

"Where's Dick?"

Barry looked like he'd aged ten years suddenly. "Bruce's had him cryogenically frozen 'till the funeral. They're planning it for Wednesday. If you're feeling better by then, I'll take you. If you wanted to go..."

Wally blinked rapidly and let his head fall back into the fluffy pillows of his bed. He couldn't look at his uncle's sympathetic look or hear him continue on about how proud he was of Wally and how there wasn't anything he could have done to prevent it and how he did all he could…

_Bullshit._

All Kid Flash had done that night was fuck everything up. Maybe if he had just run a little quicker, or not spent so much time trying to get that pole off Robin. Maybe if he had gone right to the paramedics and gone to Superboy second, maybe they could have at least stopped some of the major bleeding and gotten him stable sooner.

Too little too late. God, he really hated that phrase.

Still, he let Barry continue on with his false reassurances and words of comfort. Honestly, Wally was too tired and too hungry to protest. He just wanted to sleep... His eyes must have started dropping, because, soon later, Wally felt Barry place a small kiss on his forehead before moving away from the bed to the chair in the corner. Wally gratefully let himself drift away into a world where his hand wasn't broken, into a world where he wasn't hooked up to an IV, into a world where Dick Grayson was still alive.

~.~.~.~.~.

The funeral was held two days later. Everything was all in 'cluttered-order' as Barry had put it, with a report for Robin's death as well as excuses as to why no one had seen Richard Grayson for the past few days. According to the official statement to the questioning press, he and Bruce Wayne had booked a last-minute, spring break vacation to the Bahamas. They took the private Wayne Enterprises jet. Small aircraft had such poor flying records anyways. The plane would be rigged to crash shortly after takeoff. Bruce Wayne would be the unfortunate lone survivor.

Poor Richard wouldn't make it out of the flames. Officially.

Robin died in the warehouse explosion. Officially.

The funeral Wally currently attended, however, wasn't for either of those people. This one was for Dick. Of course, only a few members of the Justice League knew that, and the grave still said 'Robin' in the boring, gray engraving. This was still Dick's funeral.

Wally thought back to last night: his first night out of the hospital and his first time seeing the team since this whole mess happened. After being released, he had gone directly to the mountain to meet up with them for a much-needed meeting. Everyone had already heard some form of the story—mainly stunned, half-coherent snippets from Superboy but still _some_ version of what had happened. Now it was Wally's turn to give his.

He had tried. He really did. He didn't even start out that bad.

Wally had started with that Nitrostorm bastard and his plan to hold the city for ransom. Through gritted teeth he described the villain's action and the flurry of bullets that stopped them from leaving the building. He made it to the part where the warehouse exploded and he ran for Superboy's help. But then came the part with the pole, and Superboy having to run off to the paramedics and Dick's last words to Wally. That's when things got hard. That's when he really couldn't go on anymore.

M'gann had started crying somewhere between the explosion and the first time Wally woke up Robin. Artemis had stood and turned her back to the group when Wally stutteringly described Robin's mangled leg. Superboy left the room once his name was mentioned. Kaldur—ever the stoic, brave leader—sat and listened until Wally broke down. The creased lines around his eyes and mouth were the only betrayal for how disturbed the antlantian was.

It had been weird. Sitting around Wally was Earth's next generation of superheroes, the next group to protect the world. And here they were, all sitting and staring at each other on the couch, broken apart by their fallen teammate. No one really spoke once Wally was done with his story. M'gann had let out tiny "no's" a couple of times. Artemis let out a breathless "dammit" once before standing up and kicking her empty quiver a good ten feet. But other than that the team stayed silent.

Wally had preferred it that way. He knew the time for getting angry would come. Conner especially didn't quite seem the type to mourn quietly, but... What was it? The 'steps of acceptance?' 'Stages of grieving?' Oh, he didn't really give a shit... He just remembered something about denial as the first step of dealing with loss. His teammates didn't try and pull him out of that step, like so many others had tried to do; they rode with him.

Misery loves company. Wasn't Wally fucking lucky...

Now, at the funeral, they all gathered again, standing in the afternoon sun and looking down at Robin's grave. Wally had to scrunch his eyes against the sun's rays. Stupid sun. What gave God the fucking right to make it sunny today? This wasn't a day to have sun...

One by one, each member of the Young Justice League stepped forward and placed his or her rose on top of his casket. Each one paused briefly, either muttering quiet words of closure or regret, or even just grazing their fingertips across the smooth porcelain. Wally took his turn and dropped his rose on the top. _Why roses?_ He thought. He doubted Dick would appreciate being covered in girl's flowers... He's still a thirteen year old boy after all. Well, _was_ a thirteen year old boy.

Wally felt his throat close up. Somewhere in the corner of his mind he thanked the funeral planner for keeping the casket closed the entire time. He didn't know what he would do if he had to look at the pale, lifeless corpse of his best friend. He didn't know if he could stand Dick looking like he was merely sleeping in his old Robin outfit and domino mask. Because Dick wasn't sleeping. And Dick certainly wouldn't want to be wearing that god-forsaken costume. Would he? He really didn't have much choice in the matter.

The lump stuck in Wally's throat finally collapsed. The junior speedster broke down. "What the hell, Dick?" He quietly accused to the occupied casket. "What gave you the right?" Seriously? Dick had no permission to die. Not like that. The kid had so much life still in him, so much heart, so much energy. Everything that made a person special, Dick had. And dammit, Wally wanted that back.

Every little quirky things he did, like his habit of deconstructing the English language, or how he would tilt his head to the side when he was calculating something, or even just his need to be constantly moving, constantly preforming. He never stayed still, that kid.

"You were my best friend, Dick," Wally whispered.

He had a feeling he was doing the whole "last words" thing wrong, that he was supposed to be telling Dick how thankful he was for everything they'd been through, or how awesome their little pranks had been, or how amazing of a person he was... But Dick already knew Wally thought those things, right? Wally couldn't pride himself on being a closed book; superheros learn the hard way that you need to let people know how appreciative you were of them, before they disappeared forever.

No, Dick knew how Wally felt about all that... but there was still something that he needed to say, "I'm sorry." His quiet voice shook harder then he thought possible, sobs wracking his trembling body, "I'm so sorry."

And dammit he was! Wally was uncertain of a lot of things, but he knew his friend's death would haunt him for the rest of his life. He would forever feel partially responsible for the death of Dick Grayson.

He felt his knees tremble and he knew that if he stayed at the grave a moment longer he'd fall over. The speedster managed a deep breath and took his hand off the top of the coffin, leaving his friend behind.

He walked into the arms of his team, M'gann not even hesitating a moment before folding him in her arms for a quick hug. Kaldur placed a strong hand on his shoulder, giving him a small squeeze. M'gann retreated into Superboy's strong arms and, even though his eyes betrayed no tears, Wally had never seen the kryptonian look so defeated and weary.

Artemis surprised him. Wally had never taken her for the touchy-feely type, but she also gathered him in a hug. Her hair smelled like strawberries and her arms were tight and comforting. The slight trembling from her chest exposed her mourning, and Wally returned the embrace with conviction, trying his best, and failing rather horribly, to control his sobs too.

~.~.~.~.~.

Superboy had finally had his breakdown about a week after the funeral, tearing a nice-sized hole in the kitchen wall and causing another five thousand dollars' worth of damage around the rest of the mountain. He just didn't understand. He knew humans were extremely fragile, Robin being at near the top of the example list, but the boy had always looked like he knew what he was doing. Even before he had gone to get the paramedics, Robin had at least still been holding on. Maybe if he'd been just a little bit quicker... then he would still be here.

Kaldur became... sullen. Wally didn't know exactly what had gone on inside the antlantian's head, but the boy became harder after the light in the team went out. What little sense of humor he'd once possessed had disappeared and what little sympathy he had for failure went right with it. Which, in Wally's perspective, didn't help the team on missions at all. But, as far as Kaldur was concerned, they needed to be pushed. No more mistakes. Mistakes led to failures, and failures led to injury, and injury led to death… No more mistakes.

M'gann mourned openly, which would not have been such a bad thing if she was not always subconsciously linking them telepathically to her depressing thoughts... It only made the sorrow worse for everyone else. She didn't mean to do it. Dealing with lost loved ones was so different on Earth then on Mars... The only real similarities were the pain and emptiness that filled them all.

Artemis didn't really know how to feel. She'd spent most if her life telling herself not to form attachments to people; they only hurt you in the end. But that scrawny little bird had wormed his way into her heart like a long-lost brother. He taught her how to love again, how to trust again, how to be a part of a team again. Now he was gone. Just like her sister. Just like her dad. Just like every other god damned person she cared about. Only his 'gone' was a little more permanent.

No one really knew what to do with Wally.

~.~.~.~.~.

The first month anniversary came around quicker than he had realized. It reopened an already infected wound and sent his rational flying out the window. He needed to get out of the house. He ignored the tight voices of his parents arguing, grabbed his running goggles and ran out the door. He let shapes of his street leave him as he supersped into downtown Central, letting the blessed wind rip through his hair.

He ran past sky scrapers and hot dog stands, past parks and pedestrians. The city looked just like it always did. If he was honest with himself, it had taken a while before he was comfortable going back into Central again. Nitrostorm was still out there, still placing his wretched presence somewhere on this planet. The League still had yet to track him down, but nor for lack of trying. Maybe the guy had simply gotten a clue when he realized the entire Justice League was after him and went into hiding. Wally didn't know. What he did know was that this Nitrostorm guy had managed to severly piss off perhaps the biggest threat to villains in the world: Batman. The Dark Knight had been nothing short of terrifying when Wally had seen him for the first time after waking up at the hospital. Wally had gotten a small glimpse at what Gotham villains went up against every night. He had never seen the man so angry... so deranged. So broken.

Wally didn't think the man would rest until he had his son's killer's brought to justice. That was, if Wally didn't find him first.

That was partially the reason Wally couldn't go into Central. If, by some stroke of fate, he found Nitrostorm, he knew there would be nothing to stop him from tearing the man limb from limb. Slowly. In the hardest, most painful way possible. And that fact scared the living shit out of Wally. He didn't want to become a murderer, and he knew Dick wouldn't want him to either. But he didn't know if he could stop himself. He didn't know if he had that sort of remorse underneath his pain.

But after month's worth of searching that had turned up nothing as to the whereabouts of the villain, Wally felt a bit safer about venturing through the familiar streets. He forgot how much he loved his city. He loved the way the tall, clean skyscrapers lit up under the setting sun, the fact you couldn't go more than two blocks without finding a little park of some sort, the knowledge that no matter where he went, everyone knew The Flash's name, and everywhere he went he would get thanked, even if he didn't deserve it.

Wally sped around for an immeasurable time, crossing every street in the city, until he couldn't, and wouldn't, avoid it any longer. He went to the warehouse.

Most of the rubble had been cleared away, leaving only the concrete foundation and the occasional piece of scrap metal to obscure the land. A tiny, lone cross had been placed on the top of the hill above the ruins. The small, intersecting pieces of wood were the only evidence that something horrible had happened here.

Wally walked over and knelt down at the base. He gathered some of the loose soil and played with it in his hands, feeling both calm and empty at the same time. He wondered how that worked.

Wally wasn't sure for how long he sat there, simply letting his mind wander wherever it wanted. He thought about a lot then. He thought about his still-recovering team. He thought about his relationship with his parents and his uncle. He thought of Dick. He started remembering some of his fondest memories with him: the time they first met and he nearly fell off the edge of a gotham building before Dick's quick hand had grabbed his flailing arm, the time Dick had finally trusted him with his secret identity.

Wally laughed softly to himself. He remembered how he had stared, open-mouthed like a dead fish, as twelve-year old Robin had reached up and torn the domino mask off his brilliant blue eyes. Wally had stuttered something awful, not wanting to face the wrath of the Dark Knight once he found out Wally West had now known the identity of his sidekick.

He had been so scared. But excited, and touched at the same time. And Dick had just looked at him like he was the biggest idiot in the world.

Wally laughed to himself, looking once more towards the small cross at his feet. He still felt cold. He still felt the hole in his chest that he knew would never heal properly. But he also felt a bit better, a bit less alone in the company of his friend's spirit.

He stood slowly, eyes never leaving the grave.

"See ya, Dick."

Wally turned and sped away. Only looking back once, to smile one more time.

* * *

_Thoughts? _

_Sorry, there's not a lot of dialogue in this one... its a lot of explanation as to where everyone is at this point/whats happening in general... there's a lot of time skips too. Sorry if it gets confusing! (or depressing...) This is my first time trying something like this, so if characters seem OOC or things just don't seem right, please please feel free to message me and I'll see what I can do to fix it _

_Thank you all so much for reading! They'll be one more part after this (I gotta bring Alfred and Bruce in here at least a little bit) and the next one will be a little brighter/hopeful... maybe ;)_


	4. Chapter 4

It had been one year since the funeral, one year since Dick had died, and one year since the lives of the Young Justice team had been turned around.

Wally was restless.

He couldn't exactly remember when he had decided to go to Gotham, but sometime around midnight he found himself zooming past the dirty, dark streets of The Batman's city. He was just Batman now... no Boy Wonder anymore.

Maybe the fact that Wally could finally, even without the consent of the city's holder, enter Batman's domain meant he wasn't afraid to look his best friend's mentor in the eyes anymore. If anything, Wally _wanted_ to meet up with the guy tonight. He felt he owed the man his words, if anything.

That was the main reason he found himself, ten minutes later, at the grand double doors of Wayne manor. Though he was hoping to find someone first before he went straight for the Dark Knight. Namely one Alfred Pennyworth.

Wally had known Alfred for a long time, ever since Dick had told him about his Robin persona, three years ago. But the man felt like he had been part of Wally's life forever. Alfred was a near constant source of rational advice, medical attention, and the best cooking known to man. He was an open ear whenever you needed one, a cup of hot chocolate when a mission had gone wrong, and that perfect, loving, parental figure every child needed now and then. If there was anyone Wally wanted to see right now, it was Bruce Wayne's old butler.

Nevertheless, Wally was a bit hesitant about knocking in the front door, what would people think of a Central kid showing his face at Bruce Wayne's door, but he only cared for a minute. Let the people gossip, Wally had worse problems to deal with.

He banged the fancy lion-head knocker and waited. In nearly record time, the door opened to reveal the dignified, if not slightly wrinkled and kindly, form of Mr. Alfred Pennyworth.

His expression held one of controlled shock and Wally paused to consider exactly what he looked like to the butler: windswept hair, red-rimmed eyes, and scrunched shoulders. _He probably looked like a freaking kicked puppy_...

Nevertheless, the ever stoic butler retained his post. "Mr. West, good evening. I thought we might be expecting you?"

"Expecting me?"

"We, whether consciously or not, have also logged this unfortunate date to our memories."

"Oh."

Under normal circumstances, Wally knew the old butler would have probably cracked the smallest of smiles at the rather obvious information flying over the speedsters head, but this was not a meeting under usual circumstances.

"Please, come in," Alfred gestured to the hallway and Wally stepped inside. He wondered how the man kept himself together so well, but even Wally could see the lines across the old man's face, lines that had nothing to do with age and everything to do with grief.

"Shall I make up some hot chocolate?" He offered once they had entered the kitchen.

Just like old times.

Wally nodded solemnly as he took his place at the second seat from the end. He had always sat here when he and Dick had spent weekends in Gotham. Dick would sit next to him and Alfred would stand against the end of the counter top sitting and laughing with the boys like he was chatting with his own sons. Wally sort of doubted they'd be laughing now.

With the skilled hands of a master, Alfred produced two mugs filled with steaming brown liquid. He passed one to Wally and took one for himself. The older man surprised Wally when, out of his suit pocket, he produced a thin flask and poured a generous amount of what looked like whisky in the hot chocolate.

The butler didn't miss Wally's expression. "Forgive me," he said with a sad smile. "There are few days in the year I offer myself alcohol. Unfortunately, I seem to have added one to my list."

Wally nodded. He understood. Hell, he didn't want to think where he would be right now if he'd been of legal drinking age, or if Barry carried beer at his place.

The pair clashed cups and drank deeply, taking solace and comfort in each others companionable silence. There really wasn't anywhere else Wally would rather be tonight. Right here, he had no obligations, he received no unwanted pity, and he was around one of the few people who understood. At this point in his life, he knew he couldn't ask for more.

After about half of his cup, Wally cleared his throat, "Where's Bruce?"

Not that he'd really expected the Batman to join their little hot cocoa feet, he was still curious as to where the man was spending this... significant day.

"Master Bruce has taken to the streets. May God have mercy on any culprits this evening."

Wally cracked a small smile. God's mercy indeed. Then again, Dick could have used some of God's mercy a month ago. He guessed God was a busy man.

"How's he holding up?" Wally asked. "I heard he's been giving the Justice League shit."

Alfred wrinkled his nose at Wally's language, but said no more. "We all handle loss in different ways. Master Bruce tends to take a more... physical approach in dealing with his feelings of suffering. He tends to bury his pain until he can fit no more. I do pity anyone around him when he finally blows over."

Wally nodded. "Yeah that sounds like old bats... We're all holding on to something, I guess."

"Indeed, Mr. West." The butler held his composure, but only barley.

Wally wasn't so successful. "Alfred, I miss him..."

Wally's self-control was terribly unreliable lately. He'd be sitting at home thinking about something completely unrelated and suddenly he'd feel tears start streaming down his cheeks. Or he'd pass by something that reminded him of Dick and immediately his throat would constrict painfully and he'd have to run. Fast.

The same kind of thing happened right now as his shaking hands nearly dropped his mug of cocoa. He hurriedly placed the mug back on the table as Alfred moved smoothly around he counter and placed a comforting hand on Wally's shoulder. That wasn't enough for the junior speedster, however. This was the one person on earth who shared his pain and was willing to express it in similar ways. This was the only person who'd acted like a father to him when no one else would.

Wally's face scrunched up in pain as he stood and dipped his forehead In the crook of Alfred's suited shoulder. His arms wrapped tightly around the older man's waist in a hug that was quickly returned. In the kitchen, the pair stood together offering each other comfort and support.

Alfred really did give the best hugs. Always had.

Wally could do nothing but sob quietly in the older man's shoulder, repeating the same thing over and over again. "I miss him. I miss him so much."

Wally could hear the tears in the old man's voice rather than see them. "As do I, Mr. West. As do I"

.~.~.~.~.~.~.

After the emotional whirlwind with Alfred, Wally really needed to burn some calories. He sped around Gotham City, clad in his stealth mode, looking for signs of crime. Where there was crime, the Batman was sure to follow. Without too much difficulty—this _was_ Gotham after all—Kid Flash sped around a corner to find a drug heist taking place. Ten or so dealers, some decked out with semi-automatics, some holding shotguns, loaded carts of what looked like packaged cocaine into a disused truck while others kept watch.

Perfect.

Wally zipped around behind a dumpster, quicker than any of the low-life criminals could have spotted, and waited. He wasn't about to directly interfere in Batman's city. He wasn't suicidal. So he waited.

The speedster wasn't disappointed. It wasn't three minutes until the dealer farthest away stiffened, and not two seconds after that that he disappeared from sight. Wally admitted, watching one man take down fifteen, using nothing but some fancy-fabric suit and the power of fear, was badass. He could tell immediately what had drawn Dick into this life. Batman reminded him so much of Robin on missions, so long ago. The way he moved, the way he disappeared, even the way he used his goddamn belt. This was the trainer of the Boy Wonder.

Batman took out the criminals within minutes, not receiving a single hit himself despite multiple weapons being shot at him at once, even the semi-automatics. Wally really hated semi-automatics.

Something told Wally that Batman knew he was hiding behind the garbage cans, and, quite honestly, Wally was banking on that. It put the conversation ball in Batman's court. If he was ready to speak with Wally, he could. If he wanted to ignore the speedster, which was most likely, he had every right. Wally would not try to pester.

Be that as it may, The Batman stood idle for a few seconds, just a few, as if actually contemplating bringing in the speedster, but his fists balled up at his sides and, with a quiet scowl, he quickly took to the roofs.

Well so much for that idea.

Really, Wally was alright with that. He understood. Really, he did. Wally had lost a brother that fateful day, but Bruce had lost his son. That was going to take more time to heal. If he didn't want to talk yet, even if he never wanted to talk, Wally would be ready if or when he did.

The speedster turned and made for the Gotham City limits. He would try again someday. He was just about to pass through one of the last blocks on Gotham's west end when he zipped by what looked like the Batmobile. Something out of the corner of his eye caused Wally to skid to a stop faster than he ever had before and quickly reroute back to the alley.

_The hell..._

Crouched underneath the front left tire of the Batmobile was a kid. This kid, most distinguished by the dyed white streak he had in his dark brown, mopey hair, had a crowbar in his hand and was underneath the Batmobile, apparently attempting to remove one of the tires.

_Oh no way..._

Wally didn't know whether to laugh or scream at the kid for being the biggest idiot in Gotham. If Dick had taught him anything about Batman's list of rules: don't. touch. the. Batmobile.

Wally couldn't help but crack a small smile, offering a silent prayer to the poor kid for when Batman finally found him. If Bruce got anything tonight, he would most certainly get a surprise. Maybe even a new adventure.

Stranger things have happened.

Wally really couldn't say what had pressed him to come into Gotham on the one year anniversary of his best friend's death. Maybe he was here because he was finally starting to cope with what happened. Of course he would never forget Dick; his friend would always be in his heart... no matter how cheesy it sounded. But Wally no longer held himself responsible. Sure, it took months of team-repairing experiences and scoldings/pep talks from Barry, but Wally was starting to see life as something to live and appreciate, in sight of what happened to Dick, instead of something to be scornful of. His friend wouldn't want him to wallow his life away. And treating his death like the end of the world instead of finding the lessons out of it was just sheer stupidity and cowardly blindness.

Dick lived his life in a certain way; he lived it to the fullest, wasn't afraid to be his own person, and always accepted new people into his family. His open, friendly demeanor, one that cured the goddamned Batman himself, is what he will be remembered by. Not the tragedy of his death. People would move on and eventually forget who Robin the Boy Wonder was. And eventually Richard Grayson's name would disappear into the ash heap of history, too. But his spirit would live on. What he stood for and what his personality brought to the world, those would live on.

Dick changed Wally's life forever. He wouldn't have changed a single second of it for anything.

* * *

_Aah get ready for a long note. Sorrynotsorry._

_Okay, just to clear a couple things up before/if I get any comments about it: Yeah, I know Jason doesn't get the white streak in his hair till after he becomes Red Hood, but it is his most (in my opinion) defining characteristic between all the other Robins which is why I choose to add it in here. And also, I know its a long shot (and in my opinion completely impossible) that Bruce would take on another protegee after Dick's death, I still like to entertain the possibility. Plus, that leaves it up to the reader to decide if Batman got another Robin after this, it's a bit of a silver lining and the notion that life goes on even in the face of tragedy._

_Thank you so very much for reading! This was soo fun to write, despite the heavy topic. (I really hope I did all the characters justice!) This was my first official shot at a death fic and it's nice to know it was well-received. _

_Thank you all very much! _


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